


Ring Ding Dong

by zjofierose



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Early Days, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:05:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it happens, Zach doesn’t think much of it. Sure, there’s the little pang of disappointment, but he pushes it back down. It was an accident, and he can see in Chris’ eyes that he feels badly about it, so, oh well. It’s not a big deal. It was only a dime-store ring anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ring Ding Dong

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt- "... what I would love to see is one of the boys with a ring kink and the other screwing it up somehow, then fixing it. lol."

The first time it happens, Zach doesn’t think much of it. Sure, there’s the little pang of disappointment, but he pushes it back down. It was an accident, and he can see in Chris’ eyes that he feels badly about it, so, oh well. It’s not a big deal. It was only a dime-store ring anyway.

The second time Zach’s a little more upset, and frankly, that feeling catches him off-guard. Yes, he knows that Chris has to take it off for filming. Yes, he believes Chris when he says that he set it right there on the counter before he went to the make-up trailer, and yes, he believes that it wasn’t there when Chris got back. 

It’s really not that important. It’s really not. 

It’s just that it started out as such a silly thing- like when you’re in junior high, and you give someone a ring you won with tickets from Skee-ball, or playing the pin-ball machines, just to show them you liked them. Gestures he always saw his friends make- a little secret, a little token, a little hidden something just to say _I’ve got a crush on you._ And now somehow it’s grown on him, this little inside joke, to the point where he knows it’s completely irrational, and that he’s a grown man, and should not be anywhere near this flustered over his _(kind of maybe he hopes)_ boyfriend not wearing his _(ridiculously cheap)_ ring.

But now here Chris is again, that semi-guilty look on his face, and Zach has to squash down the little bit of teenage heartbreak that is lodging itself like chewing gum in his throat.

This one had been silver, instead of gold like the first. Well, ok, it was silver-colored pot metal, and there’s still the faintly greenish smear where it had reacted against the salt sweat of the skin on Chris’ fourth finger, but still. It wasn’t about what it was made of. What it looked like. 

He can tell by the look on Chris’ face that he gets it, sort of, and so he pushes it aside and just smiles and leans in for a kiss, nothing but forgiveness in his touch and nothing but relief in Chris’ reach. 

It’s completely irrational, after all.

The third time it finally gets him, and as he forces himself to murmur the _it’s fine, don’t worry about it_ he can see that Chris is onto him. He waits till Chris has left again before he lets his face fall all the way. He feels like a moron for this, but he can’t seem to let it go.

He pours himself a glass of water from the tap, sinks down into the embrace of his couch and closes his eyes, letting a swallow of liquid trickle down his throat as he leans his head back onto the arm.

How to explain it? He’s not sure. It’s something so deep, so ephemeral… It’s ridiculous, he knows, and he is being petty to be upset with Chris for what have clearly been a series of unfortunate accidents. But…

They’ve only been together a few months. It’s an open secret on set and with their friends, sure, but it’s still a _secret_ , and Zach likes it that way; it’s special, it’s just them. Speculation is just speculation, and the rumors are unconfirmed, and there’s something illicit and private and wonderfully intimate when he presses Chris up against the back of his trailer and kisses him with this new familiarity that they’ve found.

It was meant to be a joke, the first one; they’d had some change to spare, and that dumb little taqueria they were having lunch in had those old-fashioned toy dispensers with the little plastic eggs in them. Chris had gotten a Superman sticker in his egg and had crowed with joy, promptly sticking it on the front page of his script with the triumphant grin that made Zach smile till his cheeks hurt to see it. 

Zach’s egg had had a ring. It was just a dinky little fake-gold number, with some sort of etching on the band, made big enough for all the broke teenagers who might have need of a token for their lady (or laddie) love. He’d slipped it onto the fourth finger of Chris’ right hand before he’d even thought it through, looking up at the last second as the band slid home to see the blush rise in Chris’ cheeks as his eyes went all soft. Zach’s heart had given a sudden lurch, and he’d frozen, Chris’ finger clutched in his own, the moment caught between them until the gum-snapping waitress had dropped a fresh basket of nachos on the table right next to their linked hands.

The moment had gone, and Zach didn’t say anything about it. The blush had faded from Chris’ cheeks and they’d finished their lunch and gone back to set, horsing around and flirting like they always did.

But then… Chris hadn’t taken it off.

Zach hadn’t noticed at first; they’d been shooting scenes apart from each other, and hadn’t been staying over at each other’s houses, due to different shoot schedules. He’d taken a couple days to cotton on.

But then that weekend he’d caught the glint as Chris sliced an apple at the kitchen counter, and his heart had given that same sudden illogical lurch to the side at the glimpse of that little stripe of metal bisecting Chris’ fourth digit.

They’d fucked there in the kitchen, hot and sticky with the apple juice still on Chris’ fingers, the taste of the fruit heavy of his tongue as they kissed. Zach came to the feel of the ring as it scraped across his nipple, and though Chris looked pleasantly befuddled afterward, he didn’t say a thing in the lethargy of the post-coital bliss.

It had been about a week before Chris had lost it and come to Zach with sorrow in his eyes, and Zach had smiled and kissed him and told him it didn’t matter. And it didn’t.

Not really.

It had taken him five dollars and seventy five cents at the same taqueria to find another; the kids at the next table had happily disposed of the stickers, bubble necklaces, and weird superhero erasers in the other twenty-two plastic eggs, so that was fine, and he’d left, silver, skull-shaped ring in sweaty fist, to find Chris. 

The way that Chris dropped to his knees and sucked him off in gratitude suggested that Zach might not be the only one who had been more than a little attached to the trinket, and Zach had smiled as he licked Chris’ finger between his lips and traced his tongue around the band. It tasted strange; one part metal, two parts plastic, and a third part green salsa, but he didn’t care, sliding it around in his mouth until they were both collapsed on the floor and breathing hard in the aftermath.

Chris had laughed and run his hand over Zach’s arm, letting the ring drag against his skin as Zach shuddered.

But then… something had happened. Someone had taken it as a prank? It had gotten bumped down the sink? Zach’s not sure, and really, ultimately, it doesn’t matter. The second ring was gone.

He’d gotten the third one at a thrift store. The taqueria hadn’t refilled its vending machine of eggs since the last time, so he’d gone further down the block and found a hole-in-the-wall Salvation Army branch. This one was shell, one of those dumb puka shell rings that tourists buy on the docks, white and pink and peach in delicate swirls. He soaped it in his trailer’s sink, watching as the colors emerged from under the accumulated dust of the shop. It was going to look ridiculously perfect against Chris tan and gold finger, and Zach could feel his heart racing at the mental image.

Because it’s not just about the feel of it against his skin. It’s not just the touch of the ring in his mouth. It’s seeing it, too, seeing that he has a visible presence in Chris’ life, that Chris is voluntarily displaying a marker of him, of _Zach_ , of his physical being on Chris’ own body. It’s heady, and it’s new, and Zach never thought that he would be like this at all. It’s not about possession, not really; not about marking Chris as his, or warning others off. It’s the wrong finger, if that were the case, and no one would know it was from him anyway. It’s something about the gesture, he thinks, something about the idea of Chris thinking of him every time he feels it, of Chris remembering his touch every time the sun catches it. It’s a personal gesture, a secret just between them, a way for Chris to say _“I’m thinking of you; you’re important to me. I have done this thing for you. I am doing this thing for you every day.”_

Maybe it’s superficial, Zach’s not sure. It’s not that he _needs_ the ring, or that he doesn’t trust Chris, and needs some possessive tether on him. It’s just… it’s nice. That’s all. He’d liked it, seeing it there, but it just doesn’t look like it’s going to work out, and well, that’s a little bit sad.

He presses the glass of water to his forehead, letting the condensation run down his face and trickle into the hollow of his throat.

He’d liked it. That’s all.

There’s a knock on his trailer door that he ignores, but then the door opens and shuts, so he opens his eyes to see Chris kneel beside him and hold out his fist.

Zach looks at him curiously, but Chris just waits, so Zach reaches out and opens Chris’ hand with his own.

There it is, sitting in the middle of his broad palm. The ring, the third one, its fragile peach swirling still intact.

“Fell down behind the cabinet” Chris says, and his voice is tight with stress, and suddenly Zach feels like a class-A asshole for making him squirm like that. 

He reaches out wordlessly to take it from Chris’ palm, but before he can grasp Chris’ finger to slide it into place, Chris pulls his hand back. He licks his thumb, and begins to scrub roughly at the skin on his finger, rubbing at the skin until flesh tone gives way to a faint green smear.

Zach stares at him in confusion.

“Here. For the times when I’m a klutz and lose it.”

It takes him a second, but then he gets it. 

“You found another one?”

“Yeah. The second one.” Chris ducks his head in embarrassment. “I’ve been wearing it at night so you can see the mark. It’s light enough that make-up can just cover it… they haven’t seemed to mind…”

Chris’ voice has trailed off, and he won’t meet Zach’s eyes, so Zach takes his hand and leans forward to press an apologetic kiss to Chris’ waiting mouth. Chris sighs and relaxes under his touch, pulling back after a second to murmur something inaudible at him.

“Hmm?”

“I said, I’ll redo it every night. For as long as you want.”

The look on his face is hopeful and determined, so Zach pushes him around until he’s sitting in front of Zach, back to the couch, one of Zach’s long legs placed on either side of him. 

He takes Chris’ right hand in his own, pulling it up in front of them and rubbing the faint green line with the pad of his thumb. He loves it, the idea of Chris sleeping every night with Zach’s ring on his finger, of Chris wearing it into the shower to let the moisture work its chemical brand upon his skin. He spreads Chris’ fingers, not missing the tiny gasp Chris gives as he strokes down each one until he gets to the fourth. 

He slides the ring back on, letting himself bask in the flare of warmth he feels as it slides into place over the green tracing. He can feel that Chris is smiling against his arm, so he kisses the top of Chris’ head, pausing to admire it before he links their fingers together and nuzzles into Chris’ neck.

“Hmmm.” It’s a happy sound, and it makes Zach feel all warm and fuzzy when it comes from Chris. 

“I’m… glad you found it."

Chris chuckles softly, his head lolling against Zach’s knee.

“Me too.”


End file.
